Words & Photos by Chris Hadgis
There’s a reason it’s called falling in love, or falling for someone; falling is flying, at first. The beginning of falling is simply letting go and feeling free. But feeling free has consequences
We meet in a high-end cycling pop-up shop on Abbot Kinney Boulevard where I’m helping with an archive sale event. He comes in from a group ride. I notice him. Tallish, slender, all black cycling kit, short blond spiky hair, and a burnt sienna colored constellation birthmark around his left eye. There’s something about this little imperfection on his face that makes him even more attractive. His black and yellow helmet is tucked under his surprisingly muscular arm. His upper body looks more like a swimmer’s, and less like the typical road cyclist physique: twig-like arms and soccer player strong legs.
I don’t remember if he spoke to me first, or vice versa. As we talk, the rest of the world fades away. For me, anyway. I could listen to his deep, rich, Welsh-accented voice forever. We talk about our “other” activities. He surfs. And as a result (I later found) has He-Man strength in his svelte build (he lifts me up like I’m …read more
Via:: Pretty Damned Fast